Stone Curlew the dukhi bird!!

I am removing the piece on Fairy bluebird and replacing with Stone Curlew. It was my fault I should be more careful (than excited!) but I guess the arboreal nature of the bird gave indication of Bluebird than Thrush. Further the pictures also were not great, bills which are important reference in classification too were blurry. I guess my search for Fairy Bluebird continues and yes I will have to have better pictures of Malabar whistling thrush to write about it. In the meantime it is Stone Curlew…

These birds give an impression that they are carrying all the problems of the world on their shoulders (that at present is the job of likes of Obama!!) and stared soulfully with their large eyes. Being nocturnal these big eyes help to catch prey. They are also referred to as ‘thick knees’ and are not really curlews but wader birds, the name curlew comes from ‘curlee’ calls that can be heard in the night.

Taras Shevchenko: the voice against tyranny

Taras Shevchenko (1814-1861) was an iconic poet whose literary heritage is seminal to not only modern Ukraine literature but to Ukrainian language itself and was a source for awakening of national consciousness. Born as a serf later a servant, orphaned at early age, he started his life in misery and poverty. Observing his artist talent, he was encouraged and later bought and given freedom by a painter. He enrolled for formal training in art and started life as a poet. His frequent visits to Ukraine meeting his enserfed siblings and relatives, watching the tsarist oppressions and destruction of his beloved land left deep imprints on him.

I will glorify
Those small, mute slaves!
On guard next to them
I will place the word.

He used satire poems against Tsar and actively participated and was philosophical guide to many subversive groups, punished into military labor and was prevented to write or draw by an express order by Tsar himself. Though Shevchenko somehow managed to write in secret, ten years later on the death of Tsar he was released. By now he was being seen as national bard and he turned his bitterness against Ukrainians extolling them to be honorable and worthy of their history, scorned them for being inactive against oppressions. All his life he was devoted to his nation. "Body and soul I am the son and brother of our unfortunate nation," he wrote. He imbued biblical texts with contemporary political relevance. His poem “The Testament” gained much popularity after it was set into music and is now next only to Ukrainian national anthem.

The Testament

Dig my grave and raise my barrow
By the Dnieper-side
In Ukraina, my own land,
A fair land and wide.
I will lie and watch the cornfields,
Listen through the years
To the river voices roaring,
Roaring in my ears.

When I hear the call
Of the racing flood,
Loud with hated blood,
I will leave them all,
Fields and hills; and force my way
Right up to the Throne
Where God sits alone;
Clasp His feet and pray...
But till that day
What is God to me?

Bury me, be done with me,
Rise and break your chain,
Water your new liberty
With blood for rain.
Then, in the mighty family
Of all men that are free,
May be sometimes, very softly
You will speak of me?

Shevchenko used folk song elements to depict sadness, women’s harsh fate, the longing for happiness (his poems and writings had consistent images of impregnated and abandoned women as a metaphor of tsar’s oppressions). His poetic style was marked by the use of simple language and metaphors. Shevchenko consistently refined his use of folkloric material. His adaptation of folkloric elements was so successful that many of his poems became folk songs. His paintings are masterpieces mostly quaint and refined that hid his own harsh realities (an example of his painting is posted herein).

this my favorite poem

Even till now I have this dream:

among the willows and above the water near a mountain there is a tiny white bungalow.

A grayed grandfather sits near the bungalow

and watches his tiny grandson, so nice and curly-haired.

Even till now I have this dream:

a happy smiling mother steps out of the house and kisses grandfather and the child,

she joyfully kisses him three times,

takes him into her arms and nurses him, and carries him to bed.

And grandfather sits there and smiles,

and quietly Whispers: “Where is that misery? That sadness? Those foes?”

And in a whisper the old man, crossing himself, recites the Our Father.

through the willow tree the sun shines and quietly dies out.

The day is done, and all has gone to sleep.

The grayed old man has gone himself to the house to rest.